


find me in the woes of wintertime

by TheArmedLibrarian



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, GinBdayBash2020, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArmedLibrarian/pseuds/TheArmedLibrarian
Summary: If Gintoki could cling to a memory before he died, it would be seeing Hijikata in that snowy street again, blinking thoughtfully at the frost falling in his face.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62
Collections: Gintoki's Birthday Bash 2020





	find me in the woes of wintertime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seliaeden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seliaeden/gifts).



> For Day 2: Soulmates
> 
> Special thanks to Selia as well, for making the lovely fanart I envisioned for the story 🥰
> 
> Is this late? Kinda? My timezone guessing skills fucking suck.

_If Gintoki could cling to a memory before he died, it would be seeing Hijikata on that snowy street again, blinking thoughtfully at the frost falling in his face._

_The numbing air. The dark coat that contrasted the powder white landscape. Hijikata with his palms upward as if to catch snow, captivated by the sight. Thinking of how beautiful he looked then, of how he wanted to come by and be so close they could be touching._

_The memory sticks a lot. It was the one thing that he knows he will keep forever from everything that had led to this._

_The pain was always there. When he slept. When he walked. It hurt to talk. It hurt to just be. It felt like losing something important._

_This was not Hijikata's burden. This was Gintoki's alone, his path to take. He didn't care if he was being selfish. His decision was final, and he knew what had to be done._

_Maybe he knew how it was always going to end._

  
○○○○

Snow. That was how he remembered it. The very first time it happened.

Gintoki was sitting with his legs crossed on a park bench in the distance, eyeing Kagura and Shinpachi lobbying snowballs the size of fists at each other's faces. 

In truth, Gintoki wouldn't have the audacity to step foot in a street covered in an inch of snow and risk the chances of getting hypothermia. Sunday mornings were usually reserved for sleeping in, when he would just not care about anything for awhile and hide from the world. It's those days where he feels particularly hateful about himself. He didn't know if the kids caught on about that thought. Most days they offhandedly suggest a walk, an outing, _anything_ to get him out of the house. 

Perhaps they knew. Perhaps they were all just doing this stupid, little evasive dance of who gets to say the problem Gintoki has out loud with himself before he does.

He shouldn't even be dwelling on these things, let alone think ill of Shinpachi and Kagura. He was thankful they were trying. It would be madness to keep them from enjoying the fair weather in Edo.

"Gin-chan!" Kagura happily called out.

Gintoki looked up. She was waving at him enthusiastically. The grin on her face too wide, her cheeks red from the cold. Shinpachi too, was doing a tinier version of her wave with his gloved fingers. Sadaharu trots around playfully like the big dumb dog that he was. It looked as if they were inviting him in. But Gintoki doesn't move, merely quirking his lips in a semblance of a smile. Shinpachi bent down to scoop a handful of snow and threw it at the Yato again. Kagura shrieked in protest and they continue the fight, ignoring him completely. That was the second time they did that. Like a little checkpoint to see if Gintoki was still there. 

Maybe if he wasn't in his head, trying to overthink stuff, they wouldn't have to go through such lengths. Gintoki leaned back against the bench, raising his head up to the sky. Every exhale he made caused ghostly puffs in the freezing cold. How long had he been sitting there? An hour? More than that? He could never tell. Time always passed when you're alone. 

He needs to leave.

The first telltale sign of pain came piercing through the very artery connected to his heart, bursting through him the moment Gintoki stood. Boots staggering through the clump of snow at his feet, Gintoki gasped for breath as he grabbed for something to hold onto before he lost his footing.

Droplets of liquid land on the ground, staining the snow a deep red. Gintoki brought a hand to his nose in horror, coming up with blood trickling in his fingers. Grinding his teeth, he looked away before any of the kids see him bleeding out in the cold.

Snow and pain. That was how Gintoki remembered it. Snow and pain and loneliness.

  
°°°

Snow is gentle. It's peaceful. Quiet. That is, when there were no indications of an oncoming blizzard just from the swirling snow. If summer were feverish dreams and bursts of colors and fabrics, hot nights with sweat pouring down their necks and seeing the myriad of fireworks dancing through skin, winter had drained all of the city's color and turned it into a monochromatic landscape. _Like walking through an old movie_ , Hijikata thought. The darkening sky rolled overhead, the wintry air sharp and unforgiving. The noise of his snow boots were swallowed by the pristine white the moment his patrol began that morning.

He had not been feeling well as of late.

It was the damn headaches, he was sure. It was killing him. Or maybe it was his unpaid overtime killing him first. Then Yamazaki's _Anpan-Tama-san_ reports that bordered into demonic territory, enough to warrant a house exorcism call. Sougo's murder attempts would be next. And then the headaches come last. They were getting worse lately, pain creeping slowly into his skull in unsuspecting moments. The bouts of nausea were worse in the nighttime, when his thoughts had become so incoherent he couldn't even walk properly to make it to bed. Tetsu must have went to the pharmacy a million times and already knew the name of the medication by heart, but none seemed to work.

Covering his mouth with a scarf before the piercing cold reaches his lungs, Hijikata tilted his head upwards, watching snow fall gently all around him. His headache had cooled somewhat, numbed enough that every twitch he made wouldn't cause it to be uncomfortable and make him hurl. Perhaps if he got some sleep now, he could probably shovel the next morning.

_A cigarette would be nice._

Hijikata shifts his eyes somewhere else, searching for that particular vending machine around that area. He prepares to leave until he sees the familiar patterns of a yukata melding with the snow, a figure emerging from the mouth of the street. 

Sakata Gintoki staggered through the road, less like a drunkard and more of the broken gait of an injured man. Even from afar, the tension was obvious in the roll of his shoulders, the stooped back. One of his sleeves was hiding half of his face. If Hijikata had been any less sensitive he'd think he was hunching because of the cold, the snow. He watched as Gintoki stops in front of a store for a moment, trying to grab his bearings. 

He's moving before he even realized it, breath caught in his chest, mouth dry and brain firing a million unhelpful scenarios in his head. For some reason the fear starts gaining in on him, and all Hijikata could focus on were his feet trudging through ankle-deep snow, to get closer. 

Gintoki took worse injuries before, had near death experiences. But Hijikata has seen him bounce back to health as soon as he could walk. Hell, even getting piss drunk did not erase the sharpness of his gaze, the way he took in his surroundings. But not _this_ , on the brink of either passing out in the middle of the street, vomiting all over his clothes or both. 

He could feel his hammering heart, noticeably picking up speed even underneath the layers of clothes. The intensity of it made him shiver. "Oi," Hijikata says, hovering above Gintoki. It wouldn't be forceful if he assisted someone helpless, right? 

"Yorozuya."

"Eugh," came the ineloquent groan, a hand waving him off dismissively. Hijikata has an inkling the perm head can't even recognize him right now.

Grabbing both of Gintoki's shoulders, he hoisted the man up to an upright position, gasping slightly at the sight of blood smeared around the area of his upper lip and extended to his cheek. He was so sickly pale, eyes unfocused and flat like watching two empty TV screens at once. _This is a ghost_.

"You look like shit," he breathed out, staring at him in both horror and something else pressing heavily against his chest. The torrent of questions comes unbidden. "Where's your kids? Why are you out in the cold looking like death?"

He tried looping Gintoki's arm over his shoulder to get them leverage, only for the perm head to start weakly pushing at his chest with his other hand in an effort to extricate himself. They both stagger away from each other— Gintoki, leaning against a telephone pole for support. Him, with his bunched up shoulders and wide eyes. 

"Yorozuya—"

"'m fine. It's okay." Gintoki mumbled out. There was no _okay_ but the obvious lie that made Hijikata's stomach turn unpleasantly. It was frustrating enough to make him bite his lip and curl his fists hard enough until he could feel his nails bite on the crescent of his palms.

Gintoki was the one person he knew well enough to handle himself, yet the nagging feeling gnaws at the edges of his mind as he waved him off, walking away with agonizingly slow steps. His eyes linger at his form until he's part of the crowd again. A solitary blur of white, continuing to move forward and out of sight until Hijikata has to squint to realize that Gintoki was gone. 

The memories were stilted and spacey, and he tries to recount as much details as possible before he can forget. He comes home to Tetsu greeting him in the doorway of his sleeping quarters, yelling when Hijikata gasps and pukes all over the engawa. Dread settling on the pit of his stomach, a splitting headache that threatened to open his skull. He lays on his futon and rolls himself around till the blankets were up to his ears and all he could hear was the shuffling of fabric and his own heart.

●○○○

He noticed the mood in the living room drop when Gintoki finally got the strength to get up from where he had been lying in the futon for far too long that morning. 

Kagura looked back from the couch, a half-eaten _sukonbu_ in her mouth. Her smile froze in place, reverting slowly into a thin line as she took in his presence. When Gintoki's eyes met Shinpachi's in the kitchen the teen almost did a double take. The carefully neutral expression he had been keeping slipped to something that was closer to concern and shocked at the same time. 

Gintoki couldn't blame him. The ghost that he barely recognized as his own face stared right back at him the night before.

While he brushed his teeth he could hear the two inaudibly whispering in the living room. Gintoki slowly dropped his toothbrush on the cup holder to listen in on their conversation, hoping they weren't talking about the state of deterioration that happened to him when he got home. He sees the two huddled in the living room when he returned, heads close together as if sharing a secret.

".... don't you think he looks—" Shinpachi was saying, stopping midsentence with a gasp as Gintoki returned, eyes wide and back ramrod straight with hands clutching against his clothes. Kagura quickly shifts from her seat with the same spooked reaction and turned the TV on a random channel, turning the volume higher.

"Gin-san, do you want breakfast?" Shinpachi asked, inching towards the kitchen. His eyes darted around apprehensively, finding the empty space behind him interesting for some reason. He looked ready to bolt if Gintoki ever said a word. "We have some leftovers. Kagura says she can eat more, so I boiled some and—"

"I'm sorry."

Both of them whipped their heads towards him, twin expressions of shock doubling down on him like a sucker punch straight to the gut. "I'm sorry," he repeated, scratching the back of his neck. The excuse he had been working up for that moment lodged itself deep into his throat. "You must be angry I left you, right? You guys were having fun and I was just—"

"We were never angry with you Gin-chan!" Kagura exclaimed, climbing the couch so that her knees were pressed on the sofa, hands on the backrest with a vise-like grip. She looked ready to cry, eyes shining with barely concealed tears. "Sure, we noticed you suddenly disappeared. We got a little bit mad because we thought you went to the pachinko parlor again—"

"So you _were_ angry—"

"Hey, don't twist my words—"

"The points is, we're not mad at you." Shinpachi cuts in, sighing heavily. He looked exhausted, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. "But you had us worried sick. We came home and we see you in the bedroom with the windows closed and everything was so dark and cold."

He didn't remember that part. Or really, he can't recall anything from last night other than the sloppy way he made his futon and just landed there with his cheek pressed against the fabric, tear tracks fresh from another crying session. It seems the only thing he could remember from what happened was the persistent aching in his chest and nothing else. 

There was something he needed to recall as well. A warmth on his shoulders. Someone calling out a name on his way home.

Who was it that tried to hold his hand?

"You're not.... you're not sick again, are you?" Shinpachi asked carefully. Gintoki zooms in on his fingers, nervously wringing around and around in circular motions. For a moment, he thinks he's seen a glimpse of a hooded figure in a sedge hat. Eyes dead and wrapped in bandages, marked with the scars of a disease that had him fleeing. Shinpachi and Kagura— all grown up and jaded by a world that abandoned them, a wasteland of lawlessness and a deathly illness hanging in the air like miasma— he shook his head to clear away the thoughts.

"I'm fine," he said. "No need to worry about me."

Shinpachi looks at him like he can't believe he would tell such an obvious lie.

"Gin-chan?" Kagura asked hesitantly. "Are we good?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good." Gintoki placed a hand over her head and ruffles her hair. On the corner of his eye he sees the wave of conflict wash over Shinpachi's face, the smile in his mouth was more of a quirk of the lips to show a blank expression more than anything. It was   
enough for Gintoki to know he still hasn't let go of the topic. Trying to steer the conversation away into something lighthearted, he added. "Did you have fun?"

Kagura whooped, raising a triumphant fist in the air. "Lots! I won the snowball fight by a landslide, and Shinpachi had to buy us all cocoa."

"And you ate a whole lot of the _nabe_ , I was still angry about that!" The teen poked a finger to her head, tilting it backwards. 

"Maybe next time. I'll go with you," Gintoki finds himself saying.

Remorseful. Guilty.

There might never be a next time.

It worms its way into his chest as squeals of barely contained excitement filled the room, seeing the same happy faces he saw in the snow. Kagura and Shinpachi picked up on another round of lively chatter, but Gintoki did not hear a single word. 

Promises were bad. He knew shutting up about the topic would only cause more problems later on once they find out. They can't know what happened in the park, not about the bleeding nose, the thoughts clouding his head, not the crushing, debilitating fear of not being able to say his thoughts aloud. It was a pain that made him feel terrible and indescribably sorrowful at once, so much so that it physically and emotionally cripples him to continue his day without speaking at all, to helplessly try to shut it out. As long as they remained clueless, Gintoki would keep up the facade for as long as it takes with no hesitation.

"—should we try out the one near the park.... Gin-san? Where are you going?" Shinpachi called out, just in time as Gintoki had shuffled his way past the sliding door and out into the freezing cold. 

"Getting fresh air," he muttered, not bothering to look back as the two inquisitively stared at him.

It was frightening, but it was for the best that they didn't have to know.

°°°

Everybody tried to avoid him the next day, Hijikata's volatile mood affecting the workplace quite literally, causing groups of officers to even run from the sight of him in fear. Sougo, the damned brat, took sadistic delight over it as always. Five murder attempts later, Hijikata angrily chases him around the barracks and only stopped when Pops Matsudaira came by to fetch Sougo that involved another Kuriko's-Boyfriend-Assassination- Plot, something that Hijikata furiously refused to be a part of. 

Yamazaki and Tetsu must have been the sacrificial lambs chosen by the Shinsengumi members through an unlucky game of picking straws (heck, _Kondo_ must have put them up to it), to converse with him. Delivering paper reports with such efficiency that Hijikata wondered how frightened they were that he was going to snap.

"Here, Vice Chief." Tetsu called out, handing him another clear file to fill the papers with.

“Thanks,” Hijikata said, reaching for it. He wasn't expecting a reply, but was taken aback when Tetsu spoke.

“I’m worried,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Hijikata. 

“Excuse me?”

He's done piling another stack of reports, stopping his work to stare at Hijikata with a startling clarity that caught him off guard. Behind him, Yamazaki sneaks a rueful glance his way. It was clear they wanted to talk about his problem, but were just too tactful to bring it up. 

Tetsu holds his hands in front of him, fidgeting.  
“We didn't come here because Kondo-san told us to."

"Okay?”

“You should see a doctor.”

"Or a paid leave," Yamazaki offered, nodding in agreement.

Hijikata shook his head. "It's just a headache. Nothing that painkillers can't handle."

“Are you bothered by something?” Tetsu asked. Hijikata shoots him a confused look, to which the young man casually shrugs. "I've never seen you get sick this bad. Are you perhaps thinking of very heavy matters?"

"I'm not thinking of—"

"Is it the Yorozuya?"

"What?!" Hijikata screamed, launching a paper clip at his head in reflex. It hit him square in the face, to which Yamazaki reacted by ducking his head to choke back a laugh before getting up to help Tetsu on his feet.

Why did he even react that badly? And why was Yorozuya suddenly being a part of the cursed conversation? Hijikata pinched the bridge of his nose, another headache coming in. God, he needed a smoke. Or punch a face. Maybe both. It was bad enough that he had slept thinking about the guy last night, considering all the possible routes that could have happened if he lent Gintoki a hand, just to get that sickly expression out of his face. It was called being nice, right? He was even emotional about it, for fuck's sake! 

Wait.

Hijikata casts a suspicious glance at the two. Tetsu mumbles apologies under his breath, ready to flee the room at a moment's notice. He was sure Yamazaki was chanting the Kama Sutra just now, in case he really does die from incurring his wrath.

"Oi," he says, startling them both. Tetsu almost squeaks out of existence. "Why'd you bring him up?"

"I-I-It's because you mentioned him in passing when you came back here last night," Tetsu stuttered, and Hijikata's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline. "It's true! You were quite out of it, but you were slurring his name before you vomited at the entrance of the barracks."

It felt like they were describing a drunkard rather than him just having another nauseated episode. Hijikata couldn't believe that not only did the entire mess happened, but of all things to forget, of all things to not say, he'd ended up in a mortifying realization that what happened to Gintoki affected him so much he still rambled on in his delirious state. Was this the reason why the others were running away from him? Are they gossiping behind his back?

As he seethed, Yamazaki unhelpfully added. "Captain Okita was there."

"Don't tell me he filmed it?"

"Yes."

Hijikata cards a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fuck."

Yamazaki raised his head in confusion. "Wait. Is it _fuck_ as in you hated that Captain Okita filmed it, or _fuck_ because you mentioned Danna's name?"

"If you don't shut the _fuck_ up right now, that's _seppuku_ for you," Hijikata warned, his hand already on the hilt of his blade.

"Understandable, have a nice day."

"And no more talking about the Yorozuya either." He sends a chilling glare to his subordinates, both shaking in fear at the ominous clouds forming above their Vice Chief's head. On any other day, the way Tetsu hid behind Yamazaki's back for cover even if he were the bigger man physical-wise, would have been comical. Now, it just served its purpose of scaring the everloving shit out of the two, who were such blabbermouths and were at high risk of just letting anyone know Hijikata was somehow indirectly involved with the Yorozuya again. "If god forbid this reaches Kondo-san's ears and you couldn't stop Sougo from spilling the information, you're both dead. You hear?"

"I don't want to die, so okay," came Yamazaki's agreement. He nudged a stunned Tetsu with his elbow, who nodded in agreement.

 _Nothing has been settled at all_ , Hijikata thought, standing up from his place in the writing table to stand outside his doorway, trying to get the cricks out of his body from staying in one position for very long. Slipping a cigarette past his lips, he took deep drags and let smoke float upward in rapid, deliberate bursts, watching it rhythmically dissipate in the wintry air. He leaned against the sliding door, his throbbing head made him feel detached from the noises and the world altogether. The image of the silver-haired samurai came to mind again, and Hijikata had to screw his eyes shut to try and get his thoughts under control.

  
•••

He passed by _Kototoi Dango_ multiple times in his frequent trips to the pachinko and Gran's izakaya throughout the years, but Gintoki finds it regrettable he's never stepped foot in that particular shop before until now, sitting away from wandering eyes and close to the wide glass windows overlooking the street, thickly blanketed by fresh snow.

Biting into his food, a waitress shuffled close to his table, bowing politely with her tray flat against her lap. " _Ogyakusan_ , I'm sorry to interrupt when you're eating," she says imploringly. "But we ran out of tables and we would like to have another person sit with you. Would it be alright?"

"Oh." Gintoki dropped an empty stick onto his plate. Picking up another one fully skewered with dango, he lightly clamped his mouth on the surface of it and did a noncommittal shrug. "Yeah, I don't mind, really. I'm almost good to go."

"Thank you." She smiled in relief, before turning around to talk to a figure sauntering towards them. The waitress gestured to the table. "Vice Chief, you can take a seat here."

Gintoki froze mid-bite, bumping his knee on the table and almost knocking the teacup over and splashing himself with residual liquid. Something was stirring in his chest, a rhythmic _thumpthumpthump_ followed by a small twitch of his body from pain.

Did she just say—

"Yeah. Sorry for intruding," the newcomer grumbled, the sight of a familiar uniform and that unmistakable scowling face emerged from view. Upon seeing Gintoki's deer in headlights expression, his eyes widened.

The poor waitress shuffled nervously to the side, already weighing the pros and cons in her head at the off chance the two males were going to start a fist fight in front of her, judging from Hijikata's sudden impassive gaze and Gintoki's constipated one. "W-would it really be alright, gentlemen?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Hijikata nodded curtly, almost dismissively. Gintoki doesn't hear anything he said to the waitress, who bows and leaves afterwards as he wordlessly took his seat 

The grip he had on his cup tightened painfully, shouting his embarrassment over to the dark void of his head. They were spared from the awkward staring contest, sure. But he was also left with the realization that they never actually met like this, face-to-face, forced to meet each other's eyes with nowhere else to look at than each other. He imagined crossing paths with Hijikata on the river bridge, or yelling a snarky comment as he enters a konbini, maybe even start a drinking contest at a bar where patrons can see. He didn't expect the closeness, the subjective hot seat moment that would inevitably lead to small conversations Gintoki was unprepared for.

He didn't even know he was staring so hard until Hijikata startled him by clearing his throat.

An undignified "What?" escapes Gintoki's mouth, feeling overly conscious for some reason. The tips of his ears were very warm. 

"What, what? Are you so shocked that you were tricked into letting me sit with you by the waitress?" Hijikata snorted, helping himself to the tea being offered around, eyeing Gintoki over the rim of his cup. "Are you so easily swayed by ladies now? Is that a thing I'm not aware of?"

"I wasn't swayed, it was more of an obligation to agree. I just didn't expect it to be you," Gintoki said, eyebrows twitching in irritation. "You're not even going to leave or something? Remember that one episode? Did you not learn your lesson yet?"

Hijikata rolled his eyes. "Didn't you just say you were leaving?" 

Somewhere in his mind, Gintoki wants to tell him to fuck off, maybe flip the table so the contents of both of their tea would fly to the bastard's face. The other half of him is critically eyeing Hijikata, noticing something was off. As he absentmindedly picked on his fingernail and stared off in the distance, Gintoki can tell with his bleary eyes and slumped back that he hasn't slept a wink at all.

"You look like shit," Gintoki blurted out.

There's a perfectly funny moment when Hijikata shoots him that astonished stare, as if saying _Really? You're just noticing that now?_ and something unreadable, as if he's keeping an important detail to himself. Gintoki would have been willing to trade insults if ever that snarky attitude came out as usual, same as every other interaction they always had. But the subdued atmosphere is getting to him, replaced by an awkwardness that sent their conversation off kilter. He caught a fleeting stiffening of Hijikata's face, mouth halfway open to say something. 

But instead of doing that, he pulled it back to reveal a grimace. "Never thought I'd hear you showing concern over me, Yorozuya."

 _What a mayora thing to say_. "Take it, then. It's limited edition kindness." 

"Thanks, I don't want it," Hijikata scoffed.

"Really? You seem to be closer to death right now, Vice Chief. Want me to carry you all the way to your rotten headquarters?"

"Don't call it rotten!" Hijikata snarled, thumping his fist on the table that the liquid sloshed inside their mugs on impact. Gintoki smirked at the chance when he took the bait. "You're the one who looks about to fai—"

Hijikata cuts himself off. When he realized what he was doing, his face burned scarlet, groaning incoherently under his breath before drinking tea again so he wouldn't have to talk any further. He didn't elaborate afterwards, not even making eye contact. What the fuck, Gintoki thought. He wanted to say a lot of things, stuff like when are you going to take that stupid frown off your face? Because I'm pretty sure you have something to say but you're not spitting it out. No one's too brave enough to open up about it. Instead, he sits there with a half-eaten dango in his plate, chewing a part of it in his mouth. 

Is this how they've always talked to each other? Acting like they were both caught on tangled yarn, the barbed words an excuse to fill the silence? In his struggle to comprehend what happened, he'd forgotten how long it has been since they've properly met anywhere, preoccupied with things that has happened in their respective lives that it was near impossible to meet at a crossroads. Only this time, there's the distance, the unspoken boundaries they've been tiptoeing around for the past months.

Okay, so they're both dumbasses. But not _this_ stupidly ineloquent, right?

"You have a terrifyingly perfect timing of meeting me in places, like you know where I am."

Hijikata's brows creased. "When you say it like that it sounds like I'm always looking for you. You just happen to be there everywhere I go. It's not something I do on purpose."

"And yet you're here."

"And yet _I'm_ here," he says, repeating the phrase with an exasperation in his tone that Gintoki hasn't heard before. 

Maybe he was laughing at the words, at Gintoki, or the whole situation itself. Still, Gintoki can't help but notice how he lit up in amusement in a way that does wonders to his stomach. Their eyes meet, and he wasn't sure if what Gintoki was looking at was the midwinter sky encased within those blue orbs, Hijikata himself, or both. 

"We're bound to meet halfway, one way or another," he said with finality.

Gintoki sits there. Wide-eyed. Heart in his mouth. Behind him, he could see the waitress from earlier coming over with Hijikata's tray of food. He was glad they left him out of the loop, because he wasn't sure he's going to last there without having to admit to himself that at that precise moment— when Hijikata gives the waitress the prettiest smile he's seen for a while, extending to his eyes and making the waitress blush— that he was lonely.

●●○○

"Hey, Hijikata-san. Wanna see something funny?" Sougo asked with that trademark smile full of mischief, a video camera in his hands. His pen almost snapped at the implication of what he was going to see if he answered the question.

"Fuck off, Sougo."

"Wow, no bite today, huh?" He shook the device. Hijikata calculates the distance his sword would need to slice the camera in half. "Guess I'll just place the video on the projector so everyone can see you—"

He's moving before he even realized it, scrambling to get up like some demonic dog that was granted the possession of two more legs, halfway crawling with smoke coming out of his nose as Sougo pranced around with deadpan laughter, raising the camera in the air. They passed by Kondo, who was questionably naked, past Harada and his clique by the vending machine who screamed at the sight of him, then Yamazaki, who got the gist of what's happening and immediately snatched the camera out of Sougo's hands.

"Hey! Zaki, give it back!" He snapped. 

"I'm sorry, Captain. It was Vice Chief's orders to get rid of his gero evidence!" Yamazaki hides the camera underneath his uniform and ran off.

"Fuck," Sougo clicked his tongue in annoyance, watching Yamazaki rounding a corner before disappearing. "What a killjoy, that was the only copy I had— ow!" 

He staggered forward, wincing at the impact of something blunt hitting his skull. Clutching the back of his head, Sougo whirls around, eyes venomous, meeting Hijikata's scowl and saw the hilt of his sword slung over his shoulder.

"Glad that was the only copy, then." Hijikata growled. He'd rather burn the entire barracks to the ground along with Sougo in it than admit he was acting like a fool caught on camera. "The next time you pull off shit like this it's seppuku for you, got it?"

"tHe neXt tiMe yOu PuLl oFf ShIt lIke ThiS, iT's SepPuku fOr yOu, GoT it?" Sougo mimicked in a babyish voice. He rolled his eyes. "Empty threats, empty words. At the end of the day you just don't want to get your reputation ruined."

Hijikata's eyebrow twitched in irritation. This fucking brat— "Isn't that the point?!"

"Why were you so adamant on destroying the camera anyway? I only filmed the part were you vomited, nothing else." Sougo crossed his arms, nodding sagely. "I wanted to make it into something memeable. Have you seen your face in the video? It was all—" he made a constipated expression, mouth wide open as fake puking sounds came out of his mouth— "and the whole floor was filled with that disgusting stuff. Seriously, I think half of the contents were mayonnaise."

He shuddered at the thought. "That's fucking disgusting."

"Yeah, you're disgusting."

"I meant the vomit, bastard."

"And here I thought you'd die from your recent migraines too," Sougo says, looking disappointingly at Hijikata. He's really going to cut him down, one of these days. What does he think a migraine is, some terminal illness he can't get rid of? "Kondo-san would have been glad to arrange a promotion for me. Yamazaki could take my place, then he can give me the camera and play the video at your funeral." The smile that stretched in his face looked more like a wound for how wide and terrible it is.

"I won't die from them, moron. All I need is just sleep."

Sougo cocked his head to the side. "Really? No matter how many times you sleep, you still look like shit. And we heard you again, last night. The toilets perfectly echoes everything."

He feels tired all of a sudden. Of course they would all hear it. He remembers trying to sneak around the barracks again, avoiding any contact with people who were retiring to their respective rooms. But Tetsu— the same person who had became his caregiver since the incident— stood near his doorway with the painkillers, the look on his face that of grim resolve. So he knew, but he doesn't know why they existed in the first place. Hijikata was grateful for him, really. He just couldn't say it around a mouthful of something slimy and bitter and utterly disgusting stuff coming out of his mouth. In truth, Hijikata wanted him to go, because as much he appreciated the concern, it still wasn't right to subject him to a situation as worse as that one.

The time after the dango shop. Meeting the Yorozuya again seemed to make the migraines even worse. Wait, Hijikata shook his head. That was wrong. When he left it just bursted to his skull like an unsuspecting gunshot. His head was thumping worse than before, it felt like he was walking and nobody could see he was on fire on the inside. _You have a terrifyingly perfect timing of meeting me in places_ , like you know where I am, he had said. Hijikata couldn't help but muse on it afterwards. It wasn't on purpose, but when he saw the dango shop he just felt like checking it out, his feet carrying him inside before he even knew it. He wasn't even particularly hungry at that moment, but he didn't leave when he found out he was going to sit with Yorozuya either.

_We're bound to meet halfway, one way or another._

He slapped himself on the face. Just how cringy did he have to be to say that?!

"Oho~ was there something I missed when I filmed you last time? You got that look on your face like you're trying to bury something in the back of your mind," came Sougo's simpering voice. "Something tells me Tetsu and Yamazaki has dirt from you that I haven't uncovered that night. Can I take a wild guess?"

Oh, right. The brat was still here. He dropped his hands and gave him the glare of a lifetime that would have made babies and children cry on the street. As always, it didn't fucking work.

"You know, you always wore that face when you encounter Danna on the street." Sougo says, grinning wider everytime Hijikata turns a darker shade of red.

"I do not!"

"Yeah, you do. Remember when I handcuffed you both so you'd—"

"NOTHING HAPPENED!"

"Wow, defensive!" Sougo laughed aloud, raising his hands and waving them. "I get the discretion, but there's nothing to be ashamed off, you know. It's okay to be honest for once."

 _You want honest? Fine. His hands were so fucking sweaty when we held each other. From up close he looks paler, and his eyelashes are longer than I thought. I had to see the guy take a shit. My mayonnaise was fucking ruined, and it looks weird when I slammed the glass to Yorozuya's face and there's white stuff all around his mouth. When we were on that vent I was nervous, because I can feel his knuckles brushing against mine and I knew the beating of my heart wasn't because of adrenaline_. "The only thing I'm going to be honest about is the fact that I want to murder you all the fucking time."

"Alright, then. Keep your secrets." Sougo said. His shit-eating grin came full force. "I always knew you had a thing for him."

It was too bad Yamazaki and Tetsu had come running to get his hands off of the younger male before he could strangle him to death.

  
°°°  
 _Here is what really happened: Hijikata sees Gintoki exiting the dango shop, greeted by his two kids at the entrance. Enthusiastically romping around, laughing and linking their hands to his arms and pulling him somewhere. He looked as sickly as he remembered Gintoki to be, dutifully following them around with a half-smile frozen in his face that was close to dropping by each passing second._

_Hijikata chomps angrily on his dango and looked the other way, teeth gnashing it as hard as he could._

_Liar, he bit out, the anger welling up inside him. It all belonged to him._

_He should have said it._

_But the words won't come out._

•••

He doesn't know why he ended up in Yoshiwara in the first place, after telling the kids he needed to get some air. That was a frequent excuse nowadays, and it sounded as more of an escape more than anything. 

"Gintoki? What are you doing here?" a voice from behind him asked. 

The clacking heels alerted Gintoki that the presence behind him was Tsukuyo. Gintoki almost didn't recognize her for a second, the tips of her short hair swishing on top of her collarbones, the usual getup she wore replaced with more layers of clothing suited for winter. Oh, right. He'd forgotten she got a haircut just a few months ago. He'd heard from Kagura, but seeing it up close was still jarring in a sense. When she locked eyes with Gintoki it froze in place, like her mouth was unsure whether it should stretch itself or turn into a frown. 

"Do you need to sit down?" Tsukuyo suddenly asked. She stopped smiling entirely.

He froze. "Huh?"

"You look sick." She leaned forward to get a closer look. _God, if you can let the ground swallow me whole that would be nice!_ He must look terrible. There's bags under his eyes, he's sure. In that moment he lose sense of himself and didn't know what to feel. Flushed, maybe. Extremely irritable the next. There's the expression again, the one he sees in Shinpachi and Kagura's eyes. 

Worry. 

"Oi," Tsukuyo calls again. Gintoki blinked back the cloudiness of his head, realizing she was standing too close to him now. "Do you even know what you look like right now?"

"I—"

Grabbing his arm, she pulled him towards her and started walking forward. "Come with me for a bit."

"Where are we going?"

"To sit down, where else?" Tsukuyo answered. Gintoki shot her a confused look, but lets her pull him somewhere anyway. She takes a quick glance at his wrist. Frowns. Shakes his limp hand. Then, "What the hell, were you always this thin?"

He took his hand back. Partly in defense, partly in guilt. "Don't do that."

"Okay." Tsukuyo mumbled, clearing her throat.

They reach the park, a miniature thing made for the elderly to retire and for kids to play around for. There's a frozen lake for the koi carp that's flocked with children still leaning out over the shiny surface to get a glimpse of anything moving underwater, and a bicycle lane. Tsukuyo leads him to a bench, telling him to wait so she could get him a drink from the nearby vending machine.

"Here," she says, offering him a plastic bottle with tea. "You don't have to pay me back."

"Thanks. I'm not planning to." 

She shook her head in exasperation, sitting next to him on the bench. Tsukuyo took her kiseru out and started fiddling with it.

"So, been awhile huh?"

Gintoki raised his brow in inquiry. "You here to fish some gossip from me?"

"Can't a girl get some gossip? It's rare for me to enjoy some small talk when all the Hyakka talks about is smuggler this and prostitute that," she laughed, her hands finding a box of matches underneath her clothes. In ritualistic fashion, Gintoki watched her light the pipe in careful, slow movements. 

"This is unrelated but, I passed by a dango shop when I was buying clothes last time. Guess who I saw."

He blinked. When he realized who she was referring to, Gintoki leaned away in horror."You— so you saw me _and_ —"

"He seems like a nice guy, the Demon Vice Commander," she casually added. A pointed look to his face. Gintoki shrivelled under it. Tsukuyo seems to add up things. She's good with that, trying to decipher whatever Gintoki can't say because it's what makes him difficult to deal with sometimes. She doesn't say anything more, merely shrugging and placing her kiseru against her lips. 

"His name is Hijikata, right?"

"Yeah."

"Looks handsome."

Gintoki snorted. "Uh-huh."

"You like him?"

"He's— wait, what?"

Tsukuyo smiled knowingly. Gintoki doesn't like the gleam in her eyes one bit.

"Why are we talking about him?"

"I was interested. I loitered for a bit by the sidewalk and saw you two talking. It was weird." She bit her lip. "You guys keep on making these.... these faces, you know. Were you fighting by any chance?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're making me grasp straws here. Some details are missing and you're not telling me."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Means you know what you feel about him," she tilts her head to the side. _You really think I don't know what you're doing to yourself?_ Her eyes seem to say. "You came here looking all glum and lost because of that, right? You're trying to figure something out about what to do with what you have with him right now?"

"Why did this whole thing just steer towards Hijikata? You just saw us once and that's it."

She tapped the tip of the kiseru away. "Maybe I'm overthinking stuff. But from what you two look like from afar, I saw a glimpse of something brewing. I don't know what kind of foreplay you've been doing to each other, but every glance you give to him screams—"

"We're not doing foreplay, Jesus Christ!" Gintoki shouted in embarrassment.

"So what was that painful look I saw then? I've never seen you do that face to someone before. Like you're itching to tell him something."

"I—" Was it that obvious? He tries to bury down Hijikata, really. The onus of holding back was on him. He's frightened and playing safe for a perfectly good reason, because if Hijikata knew about his condition, of the feelings that were clawing its way to the surface since they met at the dango shop, he knows there's a chance he might not return it, might not respond well as he would have hoped. The conflicting emotions just made him wish he could fill himself up with so much bitterness he would implode on himself so he could bury it all at once, never to see the light of day.

They sit there for awhile, watching the people come and go. Tsukuyo doesn't demand for him to tell more, to speak up. He was glad she'd dropped the subject, but it left him still hanging on to his thoughts that were getting darker and dimmer by the minute.

"I'm bored," Tsukuyo says after awhile. 

Gintoki leaned back, eyes wide with surprise and amusement. "You? Bored? Hyakka's guardian whose main source of entertainment was throwing kunais in the back of my head?"

"That was like, two years ago, moron." Tsukuyo snorted. She placed the kiseru against her lips and took a drag, before exhaling the smoke with a small tilt of her head upwards. Her eyes are blank with unread thoughts. "I can't play tricks on you anymore. When I look at you I see someone who's..... lost."

She uncrossed her legs and turns to him, an apologetic grin in her lips. "No offense, you know. I'm just worried."

"None taken." He fought the lump in his throat with a painful swallow.

They sit in silence, intermingled with Tsukuyo's occasional puffs from her kiseru and Gintoki sipping his tea. He sat there and let himself be taken over by his thoughts, anchoring him to the destructive reality of what he's doing to himself and to the people he holds dear in his heart. He remembers Hijikata's hesitation. Afraid he might break some invisible barrier he put up around himself for a very long time. Shinpachi and Kagura's clumsy attempts to fit the puzzle pieces together. His gazed travelled upwards, past the sky wilting with colors and replaced by grey. Scraggly clouds were rolling in. Another blizzard. Another night to wallow in the dark recesses of his mind.

Another day of melancholy.

•••

Gintoki notices two things when he entered the the izakaya: the music and Hijikata.

He'd like to think it was an accident, or call the sudden meeting with Hijikata at the izakaya as anything but. He's standing near his seat, caught between wanting to settle on the chair or run off to other bars where he can order a decent meal for once. Too bad Gran already spotted him even from how far she was serving a customer at the counter, waving at him enthusiastically. Gintoki knows Hijikata has seen that movement. From where he stood he could see Hijikata's neck crane upwards. Before Gintoki could wipe the stunned expression in his face, curious eyes were already turned to his direction.

"Yo, so you're here." The muscles of Hijikata's face softened into that of familiarity in finally seeing some company for the night, and it took a reeling three seconds for Gintoki to digest the fact that he didn't look annoyed at his presence for once. Gran comes over to their spot at the counter, which only made him feel worse about his hesitation. 

They've done this since forever, what was he even chickening out now of all times? 

He tries not to look back at Hijikata's lingering stare fixed intently to his face as he slid into the barstool, focusing on Gran and how she laughed at seeing the two of them in front of her like some ensemble that was finally complete.

"Gin-san! Finally caught up with your eating partner here, eh?" She playfully winked. "If my husband were here, you two would be bantering like crazy right now over _sake_. What a coincidence." 

Coincidence.

His palms started to sweat. Of course. That was the word. Coincidence. He wanted to laugh aloud, seemingly forgetting that he definitely didn't come out here to purposely eat so he could find Hijikata. Gintoki rubbed his hands on the yukata he wore. Coincidence. Coincidence. This was but the two of them merely happening to meet each other at this time. 

Why did he feel so overjoyed just to see Hijikata right where he wanted him to be?

"Oyaji would be thrilled, I imagine," the latter spoke up. He and Gran share a laugh. 

Gintoki still couldn't place where the music is coming from.

"What's that song playing?" He blurted out.

"Oh! It's a French song with a really long name," Gran says, a wave of nostalgia crossed her face. "My late husband owns a vinyl recorder where he kept foreign songs he bought on some shady shops at a cheap price. Despite the title of the song, the lyrics are very short. It's quite heartbreaking, honestly."

"I'm drinking to that," Hijikata piped up. "Can I get some of my liquor bottles in here, Gran?"

"That's rare. You wanting to get drunk," Gintoki remarked, finally getting the courage to actually speak to the person he's having trouble trying to lock eyes with. Hijikata looked back at him with inquisitively. He's so relaxed in his seat, and Gintoki concludes he's been here longer, alcohol already settling into his system. "Your day off?"

"No. Just feeling good at the moment," he replied. He looked happy to be there, which made the entire ordeal worse. It feels like they weren't in the same wavelength. "Makes for some ambience with such sad music playing, y'know?"

Gintoki didn't know.

Gran nodded. "So, that's a bottle of sake for the Vice Chief, and the usual for you, Gin-san?"

"Make it with extra azuki, I'm feeling hungry." _I want to have an excuse not to talk to him right now_. 

She drops the liquor bottle first, placing two cups instead of one in front of them. Splitting drinks? Hijikata pushed the other cup to his side with an expectant face. His cheeks were flushed, the lowlights of the izakaya making the whole scene intimate, like this was such a private moment. Gintoki flushed as well, though he wasn't sure if it's because of the fact that he was staring stupidly at Hijikata's face again or trying to gather his thoughts all at once.

"I'm going to be nice for once and share," Hijikata hiccuped. He raised his cup triumphantly. "Err.... to heartbreak?"

Gintoki hesitantly raised his own. "To.... heartbreak."

Their glasses clink and nobody knew what to do other than down the shot. And then another. And another.

Gintoki's meal arrives and for once they were both quiet. Hijikata sips his drink and does quick glances at his stooped figure, filling his mouth with food. He doesn't even taste it, just a pattern of swallowing and chewing so he could get out of there before Hijikata messes with his head again.

In the end he finished the bowl. Yet he doesn't leave, like he's anticipating something that doesn't arrive. Gran gets a small break time from serving all the customers, and she starts speaking softly about the translation of the song in French. He seared it into his head. The song was terribly different from what he imagined it to be. It speaks of longing. And maybe underlying regret.

"What do you think, Gin-san? Heartbreaking, right?"

"Y-yes. I suppose it is."

"I wished the song would have a continuation." Gran sighed wistfully. "It is bad for the heart to be lonely, you know. To be loved is as wonderful a thing as to love."

There's something about the way she says it that has Gintoki looking at Hijikata, paying more attention to the shade of his eyes— mostly blue, bright and impossibly clear. He's squirming before he knows it, butterflies erupting from the pit of his stomach, like he'd swallowed a bunch of them and were trying to get out of his system. He shouldn't be feeling stuff like this. It was alienating and weird, and the constant heat in his cheeks did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that embarrassment and something closer to fondness was creeping into him. 

Then it hits.

It comes in sharp, a torturer that seemed to apply enough pressure teetering on the edge of bursting inside him. It sits there, just to the side of his shoulder, piercing straight towards his chest like a glass shard he couldn't take out. No, Gintoki thought in horror, ducking his head and bit on his lip hard enough it might bleed any second. Just when it started to numb down, just when things were getting better and he was doing fine just a second ago—

Hijikata is blissfully unaware, stirring his drink with a pensive thought in his face. _He can't know_ , he realized, overcome with paralyzing fear. Not him, not anyone. Not ever. Gintoki screwed his eyes shut and counts to three, a mantra forming in his head. _Leave the place. Leave the place_. 

_Leave the place and don't tell him it hurts to breathe and you had to scrub your face a million times so when somebody checks in on you nobody would think you were bawling your eyes out last night. You can see his face now, out in the snow. You have a sudden thought that the person calling for you was him, could be him. All you heard was a faraway call that you hope would reach out to you and he did. His hands were lightly touching you and you can feel it through the layers of your clothes and all you can think about is that he shouldn't see you like this, not when you started to realize something—_

Gintoki moves his body backwards, farther and farther until he couldn't see the irises in Hijikata's eyes go wide in surprise, hear the anxious "oi, where the hell are you going?" or the way Gran worriedly says his name. His face was greeted with a blast of icy wind when he got out. Gintoki ignores it in favor of walking through the lesser known roads clutching at his chest, the pain escalating in every step.

In the end he collapsed knees first in some alleyway between two buildings, the blood leaking through his nose. The bleeding continues, stark red in the snow, just like last time. 

Gintoki wished it would stop. He needed it to stop; perhaps this time it would be the last 

The image of Hijikata comes to mind, the intense flood of emotions twisting into a huge mess, unfurling within him that it was all too much at once. _Nothing good would have happened if he knew_ , a voice in his head said. _If he knew, he'd stay away from you. You're a wreck. He's not. You'll be swallowed by your own misery before you'd have the guts to tell the words to his face._

_You wouldn't want that for him, right?_

Kneeling on the ground, the bones in his body giving out on him, Gintoki pressed the heels of his hands hard onto his eyes and let out a soundless cry.

●●●○

They meet at alleyways. In drugstores and covenience stores and anywhere else. Halfway. Always halfway. They lock eyes once and then go their separate ways. Him with China and Glasses. Hijikata with Sougo and Yamazaki. Sometimes alone. Sometimes by pairs. Sometimes Gintoki goes with random people. A beautiful woman with a scar on her face. Otae. The Kyuubei kid. The Oniwabanshu stalker. 

Hijikata turned around when a familiar swish of fabric crossed his line of sight. He was sure the Yorozuya was there, but now he wasn't anymore. He didn't want to admit it, but whenever Gintoki hesitates whenever he caught sight of his presence, it feels like he's avoiding him.

The world continues moving around him, the swirling white colliding with rooftops, with trees, blanketing park benches, casting puffs of ghostly air everytime someone breathed.

Since the events at the izakaya, Gintoki's presence was nothing but a whisper in the wind.

  
•••

  
_-Gin-chan?_

_-Hmm?_

_-You're up early. Did something happen?_

_-Nothing. Go back to sleep, Kagura._

_-Where're you going?_

_-Somewhere. Far from here._

_-Eh? Why? I wanna go with you too!_

_-You can't come with me._

_-What about Shinpachi?_

_-He can't go with me either. You don't have to wait long. I'll.... I'll be back okay? Just wait._

_-Okay._

_-Go back to sleep._

_-Gin-chan?_

_-Hmm?_

_-Tosshi came by yesterday when you were out. He says.... he says he's sorry._

_-Why?_

_-I don't know. Do you know why?_

_-Must be imagining things. Why is he sorry for?_

_-Maybe he did something bad to you?_

_-...._

_-Gin-chan? Are you crying?_

_-I have to go now. I'll bring souvenirs, I promise._

_-Alright, Gin-chan. I'll let you go now._

_-Thank you. Get some rest. Goodbye._

  
°°°

They come running, and Hijikata has a sudden suspicion that something was wrong.

"Gin-san's gone!" Shinpachi yelled, bursting into tears. Behind him, Kagura was bawling her eyes out. "We can't.... we can't find him anywhere! The alleyways, the pachinko parlor, even Yoshiwara. Tsukki's going crazy trying to call everyone to find him—"

  
•••

He boarded the bus without looking back.

  
°°°  
"— kata-san! Hijikata-san!"

Past shops, past buildings, past places he has been to. 

_We're bound to meet halfway, one way or another._

He doesn't stop running.

●●●●

The bus cruised down a twisting road, grassy, forest green hills looming over the mountainous drive. Gintoki pressed his head in the glass for the entire ride, careful not to make himself nauseous, but enough for the vehicle's vibrations to travel to his head, a brain massage of sorts. All around him, the countryside stretched for as far as the eye could see, rice paddies and thatched roofs of houses blanketed with white. When the bus finally dropped him off his stop, no one other than him got down so he could make the walk back to the very place he had once been so familiar with, back in a softer time, in a world where everything revolved around childish games and Shoyou. 

He remembers the village, sees apparitions of figures and smells the unmistakable scent of dirt and animal dung, felt the heat prick into his skin, a faint wind chime. But now the boughs of the trees were heavy and glistened with frost, the air hung silent and cold. He trudged through ice puddles with his suitcase in tow, wondering how such a wide place could be so quiet and sad at the same time.

It was his choice to be here, but the world just seemed to mirror each and every decision he made so far. 

He'd already planned it out anyway, already foresaw what's going to happen. By the end of his life, he would be alone, as it should be. A repentance, for Shoyou. For Shinpachi and Kagura, who tried their best. The names rolled out in his head, like a prayer. Asking forgiveness for people he had known and cherished for years. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry—_

Hijikata—

_I'm sorry._

He doesn't even realize it until it fell into his cheeks. Then he was crying, rubbing helplessly until his knuckles were wet with tears and he had to stop walking to put air in his heaving chest.

They won't ever meet again. That's probably a good thing.

All those times that they did, when they spoke to each other. He regretted not paying attention until it was too late, and it's what scared him the most. What did Hijikata think of him now, some coward who can't face him and let himself fade from the other man's life like he was a forgettable memory? 

He can't let go, and that was the irrevocable truth. He wanted to be there by Hijikata's side. _I want to tell it to him_ , Gintoki laments. It's strange— frightening even— how one can go from someone he despised, two strangers that were broken and hurt by things they've regretted in the past. Transformed into unlikely friends. Bound by their principles, the desire to protect the ones they love and understanding each other's pain. To then completely infatuated by him and wondering where Hijikata has been his entire life, wondering how it ever was that he was able to live life without him. 

A song plays in his head. Soft. Melancholic. The French song on the radio. The song Gran translated for him.

He shouldn't be remembering it, now that he made up his mind.

It loops in his head. Time and time again.

It tastes of regret.

_I will leave you notes_

_Under your door_

_Below the singing moon—_

One foot forward. Two. He's walking might as well be dragging his feet until he could reach the nearest place to wait out the illness inside him to fade. Or to get worse. 

_Very close to the place where your feet pass_.

_Hide in the winter weather holes_

_And when you're alone for a while—_

He needs to keep moving. For him.

So he doesn't have to regret it. 

He sees Hijikata in his head now, in the distance. A figure swallowed up by the blizzard in his head. Beautiful. Unattainable. Distant.

 _I love you_ , he mouthed. But the noise was swallowed up by the storm.

_I will always, always, love you._

The ache won't fade. Maybe it won't ever fade at all.

_Kiss me._

_Whenever you want._

_Kiss me._

_Whenever you want._

°°°  
 _Once, there was a man who visited the Hijikata home who claimed to be a friend of their father's. He introduced himself as Shirotani, some businessman working in the city who happened to maintain a steady friendship with Hijikata's father for some time, before the news of his untimely death reached him. Having heard of what happened, he had come to pay his respects, but Hijikata would be lying if he didn't notice Shirotani hadn't come there with no other intention in mind._

_The distrust of his stepsiblings grew, and Toshirou found himself in an even more tension-filled household. They claim that Shirotani was a fraud, that their father never mentioned his name in any passing conversation. Perhaps he was a swindler out to take money from their vulnerable family. Nevertheless, Tamegorou had calmed everyone down enough to discuss matters and decided that Shirotani should stay for the night. That night, Hijikata had crept unto his futon and lay there wide awake, wondering if the stranger will push open the paper doors and murder him in his sleep._

_It didn't happen, of course. He was a fool for even thinking of superficial things. But he also didn't expect to share a table alone with Shirotani the next morning._

_Tamegorou had discovered that he had been running on a light fever and sent him to eat breakfast early. Hijikata complies to his elder brother's plea almost immediately, and sees their guest in the kitchen across from him, eating fish._

_Up close, Shirotani could have passed for someone older, with his greying hair and wrinkles. There's a glint in his eyes that Hijikata can't place, like he couldn't tell if he was laughing at him or just permanently amused with everything else. The tips of his fingers were wrinkly. The yukata he wore crisped and clean._

_"Hello," says Shirotani, a smile in his face that Hijikata hasn't seen before. It stretched across his face like a cutout. His younger self flushed under his gaze, more from the fact that he didn't know what to say out of embarrassment._

_"You don't mind me eating with you?" He asked again, this time handing out a breakfast dish. "Here. You should eat too. Your brother says you're sick."_

_He wordlessly takes the plate and sits far away as possible, digging into the food so he would have an excuse not to talk. Tamegorou was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there weren't any people in the kitchen but the two of them._

_Shirotani dropped his chopsticks and looked at him._

_"What does your family say about me?"_

_Hijikata sat there, petrified. He didn't know what to say to that. No adult had brazenly asked for Hijikata's opinion since he was a child. His thoughts on the matter were basically nonexistent._

_"That you're a bad person," he said after a while. The warmth on his face crept down to his neck, the mortifying silence made him want to take back his words. Would Shirotani lash at him? The sudden thought suddenly made him very afraid._

_"And what about you? Do you think I'm a bad person?" Shirotani laughs. "If you say something nice I might give you a treat."_

_Why was he speaking to him? He didn't want a treat. "I don't know."_

_"It's a sad thing, to not be accepted." The stranger gave him a weary grin. Too sad, like he wanted to continue the conversation but wanted to wrap it up as quickly as possible. "I wished your father loved me too."_

_The chopsticks in Hijikata's hand hovered in the air, suspended in time. His mind wandered to Shirotani's last words. Loved me too. Loved me too._

_He found himself asking. "What does it feel? To be loved?"_

_Shirotani gazed at him, making Hijikata blush furiously. But the question was out, and the silence was inviting him to fill the spaces with his words. A hand reached out to touch the top of his head, and Shirotani's hand was carressing his locks back and forth. Like how Tamegorou used to do it, when Hijikata wasn't looking when he played with toys or did anything that caught his attention. A gesture of fondness._

_"I think you've already experienced that," he replied._

_"I wouldn't know. Nobody loves me here."_

_"But someone does. And one day, someone more special will love you too," Shirotani chuckles, and Hijikata finds himself wondering more and more about the meaning of his words. Was it his brother then, that he meant? Who was the other person? When would they meet?_

_"Shirotani-san," Tamegorou emerged from the doorway, frozen in place. He looked like he was about to tear the man's hand away from Hijikata's head for touching him, but stopped himself. He goes back to eating, wolfing down the contents of his food. From that point on he never spoke to Shirotani again, and the latter didn't give any indication that they talked in the first place._

_Later, in a farewell letter, the secret was out. A former lover, once promised of fortune and a life in the city, but was ultimately rejected. The shocking discovery had some of them sneering in hatred, in betrayal. As Hijikata hides in the kitchen and listens to the din of angry shouts over the other side of the room, he keeps fhe words to himself. A memorial of a conversation that he wonders will come back to him several times in his life._

_One day, someone more special will love you too._

The words come back again, this time taking him into a reeling sense of realization. Silver hair in the wind, fluttering softly. The flush of his cheeks. Walking past each other, circling again and again and again. Grinding emotions in the heels of their shoes. Trying to reach out. Trying to tell him something but never managing to say it by the end of the night. The day at the dango shop. The space they shared at the izakaya, so close their elbows would touch. 

_I love him._

It comes to him full force, heart wrenching and bittersweet. He knows if he doesn't go after Gintoki, he might never be able to say his words out after all. 

Just like Shirotani. Just like the many days he has spent walking around the words until Gintoki had disappeared.

"Are you giving up?" Sougo asked. 

He's not blocking the doorway, merely stepped inside Hijikata's room before tossing a heavy duffel bag into his feet. There's an emotion stirring in his eyes that Hijikata knows was something close to frustration.

"So you knew?"

"For quite some time, yeah. Don't know why I only brought it up once. Maybe it was because I wasn't so sure of it till you actually started reacting differently. You're fucking dense, you know that? Both of you." Sougo shook his head. "Do you know where he is?"

"I don't.... I know, but I'm not sure if it's the right place." He took a firm grip of the bag's handle. He has to have faith that wherever his feet would take him, that the place he had a hunch would be a place Gintoki would attempt to come back to before he departs from the city was correct.

Sougo moved aside so he could get out. "Then go."

"Thank you," Hijikata breathed out. Just as he was about to walk out of the room, he paused by the doorway, looking over his shoulder. "Sougo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not giving up on him."

For the first time in a while, the smile on the latter's face was genuine and relieved.

"Make sure you bring him back."

•••  
Shoka Shonjuku was a school within a temple. Its halls were silent when there weren't any children around, overlooking a garden with a tiny pond where he and Takasugi loved tossing pebbles into and scooping up tadpoles to scare Katsura off. Rainfall made him sit with his knees pressed against his chest in the _engawa_ , watching water flow into the rain gutters, an intricate _kusaridoi_ hung on the ceiling. By winter the paper doors were closed, and they would come out in a flurry of colorful scarves running across frozen rice paddies, Shoyou trailing behind them with a warm smile in his face. In a way, it was home. 

Gintoki looked up to read the signage, _Tanaka Inn_ , and felt within himself a pang of disappointment. How long has it been since he returned? Everything seemed to have change since he had fought in the war. There was the usual Amanto technology, a few stilted houses. The rice paddies were as expansive as ever. But there were no more traces of a simpler time. The temple had been rebuilt to something else entirely. 

The doors slid open to reveal a man around his age, wearing a worn-out yukata and his hair in the typical _chonmage_ knot. When he spotted Gintoki and his luggage, his face brightened, but there was something in the way he smiled that held a recognition, a spark of deja vu

"My god, Sakata? The Sakata? It is you, isn't it?" The man asked excitedly.

"Um...."

"My, it's been so long! And you hair is still so shocking." He walked over to Gintoki and clapped his shoulders, the overly friendly gesture making him surprised, like he was some miracle hero that returned to his hometown after a long, successful quest. "I bet you don't remember me anymore! I'm Tanaka! I was a classmate of yours from Shoka Shonjuku back then!"

Gintoki wracked his head for something nice to say. He had been terribly bad at remembering names even from before, and he sure as hell didn't recall a single interaction with this man. 

"I, uh, I'm... as a fellow alumnus from the same school—"

"It's good to see you again," they both said together. Tanaka flashed him a wider grin and jerked a thumb towards the building.

"I heard what happened. The war was tough on us all," he said quietly. "But, well, I thought I could just try to rebuilt from the start. The school was burned, I know. But after the Amanto settled here we really fought to claim this piece of property. It was a shame to just let non-students take it, y'know? It feels wrong."

"Pretty isolated out here," Gintoki followed the direction of his thumb. It wasn't some rundown inn but a perfectly maintained one. There's a pebbled pathway from the gates leading to the inside, a garden, and middle-aged workers hanging sheets on a clothesline. Despite the winter season, the area was somewhat empty.

"Yeah, we mostly do bookings for city dwellers. Storms are pretty often here, so not much visitors around this point," Tanaka laughed. He stared at the luggage Gintoki had beside him. "Are you planning on staying for a few days, or you're just passing by?" 

"I didn't book....."

"Then it's perfect! Walk-in guests are acceptable too! Especially if it's the Shiroyasha, amirite?" Tanaka elbowed him, winking playfully. "Between you and me, I'd love to have a chat with another fellow classmate. And someone so prominent too. It's a rare opportunity after all."

"I'm a criminal," he said. 

Tanaka merely smiled.

"You're Shoyou-sensei's student, first and foremost. There's no changing that. Not even now."

Gintoki stood there stunned. He hasn't heard anyone acknowledge him that way, not since Katsura or Takasugi before the Joui Rebellion. The man took his luggage and started wheeling it towards the gates. "You look pretty tired, man. We can put you in a nicer suite so you can rest."

"Thank you," Gintoki mumbled. Tanaka's loud 'Whoop! We got a customer everyone!' drowned out the sounds of static in his head.

  
•••

"So Zura's a part of the government, huh? Can imagine that. He's always had a knack for politics and all that stuff," Tanaka says over a mouthful of rice. 

Dinner was served at the dining hall, and they were the only ones left eating their meals. The staff has retired for the night, and even though they all wanted to question the strange man with the silver hair, Tanaka shoos them out of the dining area so Gintoki could have some quiet.

"What about you, Sakata? After the war, what did you do?"

"I do odd jobs," he mumbled. He could see Kagura in his head; half-asleep, muttering things when he silently started packing his stuff. Shinpachi, still in his house, sleeping and unaware of the fact that he left. Probably wondering what to buy for lunch, ticking checklists in his imaginary grocery list. Maybe even planning to vacuum the Yorozuya Gin-chan till the floors shine. And all he did was leave with a heavy heart. It was an underhanded way to say goodbye, but he knew they'd never let him leave even if he made his choice.

What were they doing now? Were they mad? Would they finally find him in some desolate inn smack in the middle of nowhere, lying lifeless and cold in his futon?

"Got any problems with life right now? Is that why you're here?"

"I decided to leave," he replied. He shouldn't say anymore. But Tanaka wasn't part of his old life, and everything they were going to talk about was fleeting anyway. He would leave before the man could realize why he was there. "I'm trying to make someone's life a better one."

"Oh? Is this a code for loan sharks chasing you because of debt?" 

"No, no. Nothing of the sort. Gin-san's a clean citizen. But maybe he's a loan shark in a way. His face is all scary and he uses extreme violence. Plus we owe each other." _He saved my ass a couple of times it's hard to keep track._

"I see," Tanaka mused, "Were you lonely?"

His chopsticks clattered on the table.

Tanaka squeaked, afraid he hit a nerve. "Sorry, sorry. I was a bit too pushy when I asked!"

"It's okay. I guess I was lonely." 

He'd never been so good at admitting things. Even saying what he felt. Hijikata was another life away. He'd realize Gintoki wasn't worth his time. He'd do patrols and smoke those godawful cigarettes. Ride on patrol cars and reprimand Sougo with that nasty yelling that grated on his ears. Squeeze every dollop of mayonnaise in his meals. Eat alone. Drink alone. Visit Gran's izakaya alone. 

Gintoki missed him.

He missed the quiet laughter when they were too drunk to think properly. Missed the way they argue, the banter that never stops. He'll miss the last few days they were together. The day at the dango shop and the izakaya. He regrets avoiding him. He wants to go to the park and throw a snowball at his face, while Shinpachi laughed his ass off till he choked on his own spit. Cheer Kagura and Sougo on as they started throwing manmade snow weaponry till their fingers turned blue and their breaths were coming out chillier. He wants to hold Hijikata's hand in public, meet secretly in alleyways and kiss him senseless. 

He wants to be in Hijikata's life. To drown in color and bright, hopeful days with someone who cared about him. Someone that made him feel validated and loved and cared for.

Gintoki missed him, but he knew he could never do this to Hijikata.

"Heartbreak and loneliness is a terrible thing, a bad combination," Tanaka was saying. Gintoki gave him a watery smile. It was true. It was so true it physically and emotionally hurt him to agree.

"Wanna drink to that? I know it sounds like a horrible thing you know, to drink on something terrible that's happened. But I think it might ease your pain a little bit."

 _Why is this so familiar?_ Gintoki sat there with dread in his bones, watching as Tanaka eased out a huge bottle and two shot glasses onto the table. He pours for both of them and Gintoki hesitantly takes his glass.

"To heartbreak?" Tanaka raised his eyebrow.

Gintoki's mood drops lower and lower. 

"To heartbreak."

°°°

"Shoka Shonjuku?" The old woman repeated, her voice warbly with age. Hijikata guessed she was around a hundred years old. But there's a surprising spring in her step, still healthy and energetic despite the years on her. 

"Yes," he said. He had just arrived from the bus stop the day after Gintoki had disappeared, high-strung and restless. What was he going to say when they meet? Would Gintoki fend him off again, run farther away when he realized Hijikata's presence has reached him? 

It was a risk he would have to take. He believed Gintoki would always come back here, back to his roots. His teacher may have been Utsuro once, an immortal Amanto they could barely defeat had it not been for everyone's help during the battle, but deep down Gintoki always saw him as Shoyou. His mentor and father figure. They started their lives in this place, and Hijikata knew Gintoki would attempt to end it here.

Her face lit up with recognition and nostalgia at the words. "Now that's something I've never heard of in a while."

"Do you know where it is?"

"My dear boy, that school was burnt to the ground during the war," she shook her head. "But the land was bought by a man who claims to be a student of the school. His name is Tanaka, and he owns the inn that was established there, if my memory serves. You can talk to him if you want."

"Oh, thank god." He sighed in relief, almost about to drop onto the floor at the flicker of hope she has given him. If Gintoki had somehow found his way there, if he was still there—

"I can give you directions," the old woman added, smiling fondly at him.

He wrote it on a pad and ran as quickly as he could.

  
°°°

The words _Tanaka Inn_ came into view, and Hijikata stopped in his tracks. He marvelled at how such a quaint place as this can survive out here, with so little visitors in sight. Already he was given looks by the staff, probably because he was dishevelled as hell, and he unceremoniously dropped his bag in the snow, which was sure to get wet at the bottom later. 

"Um, excuse me. Is the owner around?" Hijikata called out, and one of them stepped forward with a wide grin in his face.

"I'm Tanaka. We just finished cleaning up on a customer, so it's a little bit messy around here." He placed his hands deep in his pockets. "How can I help you?"

"Is there a guest by the name Sakata Gintoki here?"

He jumped when the man gasped out loud, pointing at him with a horrified expression twisting in in his face. 

"The loan shark! You must be the loan shark he's talking about!" He cried out.

"What loan shark?!" _What the hell did Gintoki tell this man?_ "I'm Hijikata Toshirou, not a loan shark. And I work as a police officer—"

"AAAAAAAAHH THE POLICE WILL ARREST THE LOAN SHARKS—"

"I JUST SAID I'M THE POLICE NOT A LOAN SHARK!" Hijikata shouted back.

Tanaka stopped screaming, heaving heavily. "Uuh.... err.... sorry. Just me talking. Sakata Gintoki is a listed guest here. But why are you asking for him?"

Finally. "I'm a close friend of his."

The owner gazed at him suspiciously. "Really?"

"Yes. Is it okay to book a room right now? Preferably closer to his own?"

"Um..." Tanaka uneasily looked away. "I don't know man, are you a stalker or something? I've never had someone book a room like this before. Plus, if you're the type who wants to make friends, I don't think he's emotionally available right now."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's very sickly, and rarely gets out of his room. Closed off sometimes and always has blank eyes. Now I know he's the—" Tanaka stepped closer to him and lowered his voice— "I know he's the Shiroyasha, but his health seems to be declining at a faster rate. We worry if he needs a hospital instead. But he says he just needs some more time to rest."

 _When I see him, I'll beat the shit out of him for lying to me_ , Hijikata seethed, rubbing a hand to his forehead. How long had Gintoki managed to keep the secret from his for so long? "Then, the booking...."

"I'll do it. But, well, as a former classmate I'm still concerned over his safety. You just came in demanding a room and claimed you're his.... friend. Loan shark or not— don't cut me off!" He raised a finger to Hijikata's face, who looked about to get mad. He grinned widely. "Kidding. Let's just get this clear. If there's any funny business going on, I'll have you clear out of the premises. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Give me a room."

"So rude! Are you really a police officer?"

Hijikata puts on his best scowling face and sent the man running.

  
•••

Gintoki wakes up to a small commotion outside his room. 

He sits up groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The paper doors open a crack, and Tanaka nervously peeks at him in the door, smiling apologetically.

"Hey.... we have a... new guest over. Sorry for the noise."

"That's fine," Gintoki yawned. What time is it? He forgot his Justaway alarm clock at home, and he was too weak to even move a muscle. More noises from outside. Curious, he took the blankets off from his body and decided to investigate.

"Want some help?" He called out, ready to open the doors. The man simply waved him off.

"N-no! Everything's fine! Tanaka cried out. "It's just that the guest is really— ow! Hey! You promised not to—"

_What the hell's going on?_

"I'm opening the door," Gintoki deadpanned. Tanaka chokes out a "No, wait a sec—" before he takes hold of the handle and pulls the door wide open.

He meets face-to-face with Hijikata Toshirou.

The most normal reaction would have been to laugh. There was no way in hell Hijikata would ever find him here. The man would simply go about his day like normal, never realizing Gintoki had disappeared. That was what he intended after all, to make Hijikata lose interest in him. On the other hand, he could also chalk it up to hallucinations. He was sick after all, what other explanation would have been the most appropriate in seeing Tanaka holding off a man who looks exactly like the mayonnaise-loving, chain smoking, attractive, blue-eyed police officer Gintoki left behind in Edo? 

He opened his mouth.

And started screaming.

He rips out the most terrified scream he ever made that by extension, Tanaka began screaming too. 'Hijikata' says something like "FUCKING SHUT UP!' in a voice that sounds suspiciously like the real one. Gintoki staggered back against the room and closed the door, before running off to the garden to hide amongst the bamboo stalks, confused and still trying to make sense of the situation.

"Gintoki!" Hijikata's disembodied voice could be heard from outside. He realized his hands were trembling. "Open up, you bastard! How dare you leave your fucking kids alone without saying anything!"

"K-kids? He has kids?!" Tanaka squeaked out.

"Yes, he has kids! The most important people in his life! Do you have any idea how red Kagura's eyes are from crying, Gintoki?! Did you know Shinpachi had to be taken to a hospital because he fainted?!"

Gintoki cupped a hand to his mouth. He was heaving, fat tears dropping to his cheeks, past the back of his hand. It's Hijikata. He's really here. 

_How did you find me—_

"I was worried sick! I thought you fucking jumped off a bridge!" Hijikata raged on. He was really upset, but there's a hint of sadness, of regret. "The Yoshiwara woman had to call out fucking Hyakka to search for you! Fucking Katsura pointed a blade at me and asked me where I hid your body! How's that for dramatic, huh?! You want to have a go here now?!"

"O-oi, you said no funny business—"

"This isn't funny business! That guy left us without saying a word, how the hell am I supposed to react to that?!"

Silence. Gintoki curled in on himself, still in his sleepwear and barefoot, leaning against plants and snow drenching him everywhere. Tanaka must have slid the door open again, to let Hijikata in. As Gintoki tried to collect himself before the inevitable confrontation happened, he could hear the murmur of conversations rising from outside. 

He's not supposed to be there. Really, the chances of Hijikata finding him there were astronomical. He wonders if it was okay to run off again, somewhere farther, away from the person he cared for and leave it all behind. But his strength has left him. All he could do was raise his head, tears and all, as Hijikata enters the room and stops by the engawa, fists clenched to his side.

"Gintoki," he says. Softer than he expected. This stubborn, bratty, no-nonsense man just called his name like he was salve to an open wound. As if he's been searching for him for most of his life.

He's finally here.

"How?" He croaked out. "I thought you'd never find me."

"I told you, didn't I?" Hijikata got down from where he stood, sauntering closer to where he was attempting to hide. He stops just short of Gintoki's crumpled body, going down on his knees and giving him the same smile he gave to the waitress, from the dango shop. Beautiful and bright, the most colorful thing he has seen in that dreary, dreary, winter.

" _We're bound to meet halfway, one way or another_."

Gintoki chokes back a sob, as arms began to encircle his waist and pulled him closer, into the tightest hug he has ever received. In that moment, all he knew was that he was Sakata Gintoki, and being in the arms of the man that he loves was the best thing that has ever happened to him, in the woes of wintertime.

  
•••

Tanaka makes them share a room that evening.

Gintoki finds his acceptance warming, bowing politely at a disgruntled Hijikata, who he still mistakes for a loan shark. With his scowling face, it was easier to misunderstand. But the female staff of the inn were another story. They seem taken to him, talking dreamily about how they've never had such exciting guests before. The runaway Shiroyasha and the pursuit of a lover. It sounds lie some corny morning drama that middle-aged mothers would have loved to watch. Gintoki still flushes at the word. He's not Hijikata's lover. Even the former brushes the term, but the way they sit together on the dining table during dinnertime with faces as red as fire engine trucks says much. He doesn't mind, but it still felt wrong to make such a huge leap at their newfound relationship. They had so much to talk to that night, things that they needed to sort out before daybreak. Before going back home.

"This is basically my day off now," Hijikata tells him, putting on the inn's yukata and tying the obi loosely around his waist. When he pulls his shared futon, Gintoki noticed it was definitely closing the gap between the tatami mats and his own. Again, he doesn't mind. It was too bad they had to close the paper doors so as not to let the cold in. The sky was nothing but moon speckled darkness, milky white light spilling across the floor and lighting the world in charcoal grey. "Kondo-san didn't even have to make me sign papers or whatever. He knew you were more important, so he bought me a roundtrip ticket and let me go first thing in the morning."

"What would you have done if you didn't see me here?" Gintoki asked. 

He watched as Hijikata got into the futon, rustling his blankets so he could bury himself further in warmth. Their faces are so close to each other they might as well share a singular bed. 

"I'd be devastated, that's for sure," Hijikata whispered. In the dim light of the room, Gintoki can see his eyes darkening like dusk, inky dark hair splayed across his pillow. He looked comfortable and ready to drift off, but seeing Gintoki wide awake must have kept him up too. "I would cry, I guess. But I'd still try to find you. Just like last time remember? I really tried to keep tabs on you because I wanted to make sure you're safe, that I needed assurance that you're out there somewhere and still kicking.

Gintoki could imagine him, all wrapped up in his own thoughts just as he did once. To be vulnerable is already hard enough to do. Hijikata has a certain kind of bravery when it comes to things like these, that even if he were afraid and insecurities came in the way, he would still persevere. There was a small chance Gintoki wanted to come back to Edo a few years ago, caught in wanting to protect those he loved but didn't want to hurt them in the process. He found Hijikata's faith in him endearing, growing on him like warm summer days that were pleasant in his skin.

"I'm glad I found you here. And I'm even more glad you're safe," Hijikata added. "Whenever I saw you in those days you weren't yourself, I barely recognized you. When you walked the other way, I just couldn't say what I wanted to say, and I thought I knew all the reasons why you did what you have done. I thought you hated me."

"I'd never hate you," Gintoki shook his head. He held out his hand for him to take. He didn't know why he did that. Perhaps it was his stupid way of atonement, to comfort him. Hijikata complied, brushing his fingers into Gintoki's. The touch sent pleasant chills down his spine. Hijikata began stroking the surface of his palm hypnotically, calmly. A sensation that anchored him to the present. "Someone as kind and patient as you would never be someone I would hate."

"I'm glad. I don't hate you too."

"Mhhm. Okay."

"Thanks?"

"Why the hell are you thanking me?" Gintoki snickered. "That wasn't a just a compliment, idiot."

"Oh? Then a confession?" Hijikata asked, mouth turned up to a teasing grin.

The rosiness of Gintoki's cheeks give him away, and he dives into his blanket just as Hijikata huffs a laugh in his direction.

They talk well through the night, learning more about what happened to them. The illnesses and the weird symptoms. They both tear up at each other's hardships, laugh at superficial things, of missing their friends back home. Of Tanaka's general weirdness. Gintoki promised to show Hijikata around the neighborhood. Hijikata recounts his tales in the entire bus ride and complains about salivating babies and old men sleeping in his shoulders. They talk about everything and nothing until both of them fell asleep, hands on top of each other.

 _No secrets anymore,_ Hijikata made him swear. _I think I've had enough of those to last me a lifetime._

Gintoki wrapped his own finger into his and nods fervently. 

  
°°°

It happened unexpectedly, chaste and sweet.

They were standing in the garden by the morning, enjoying the cold air in their sleeping yukatas, when Gintoki gets an idea. "Snowball fight!" he yelled, and in an instant a snowball materialized in his hands and hits Hijikata square in the face. Within minutes they're both hysterically laughing and retaliating with more compacted snow, throwing them at each other and laughing when it bursts when thrown on fabric. 

"You are so going down after this," Hijikata taunts, flinging another snowball at his direction.

Gintoki ducks just in time, out of breath from all the exertion. When he stands up, Hijikata bodily tackles him to the ground. He screeched, falling flat on his ass as the latter falls on top of him with bright peals of laughter.

"I win," he says, panting.

Their faces are so close to each other.

Hijikata kissed him. Soft and slow and he tasted like _azuki_ beans and sweet candy all at once, and he would be lying if he didn't felt that little tremble when he held Gintoki's arm in his hand in that moment. He pulled back, still in that absolutely high that sent sparks on the tips of his fingers, warming the center of his chest. Gintoki looks back at him with a dazed expression in his face, mouth partly open. His head drops onto Hijikata's shoulder and he shivered.

Hijikata darts his glance away, red in the face. "Are you cold?"

"Moron, you just gave me the best kiss of my life and you suddenly ask me if I'm cold," Gintoki snorted.

"Oh, god. What are we all gonna tell them after this?"

"They probably think we had a healing fuck session or something."

"Gintoki!"

"I don't know what to say! All I know is I'm definitely apologizing to Kagura and Shinpachi first!" Gintoki threw his hands in the air, embarrassed at his own words. "They'll definitely know something's up. I can feel it. Kagura's gonna say something weird about two men dating and then Shinpachi's going to _freak_ -"

"So can I date you?" Hijikata blurted out.

Words left him. Gintoki blinks away the shock. As he attempted to hide his face behind his fingers, his cheeks became beet red and shone through the gaps.

"You can't just say it like that...."

"So is that a yes?"

"Fucking yes, you idiot. What else?"

They linked hands, and in the stillness Hijikata was the one to speak first.

"Let's go home."

Gintoki beamed.

"Yes."

They spend the rest of the day together, unable to keep their hands or mouths to themselves, until Tanaka calls them over for dinner.

  
°°°

"Hey." Gintoki calls him one day, while they were both out on a job. Hijikata leans against the patrol car with his gaze locked against the criminals all handcuffed together, marching straight towards a truck. 

"Hi, is there something you-"

"Do you wanna make a home together or something?" Gintoki blurted out.

Sougo's head popped out of nowhere from the back of the patrol car with his signature grin, giving him a thumbs up. From afar, Kondo made his index finger and thumb touch to make an open circle. Yamazaki and Tetsu were mouthing at him, "Say yes! Say yes!"

Belatedly, he realized he had his phone on loudspeaker. 

Mortified, Hijikata ends the call and starts brandishing his sword and chasing his own colleagues.

  
°°°

"I want a huge garden," Hijikata replied to him by phone call at nightfall. He can see Gintoki's silhouette emerging from the porch of his house, his phone to his ear, grinning excitedly.

"We can build a _minka,"_ he added, ascending the stairs leading to the Yorozuya, From inside the house, Kagura's footsteps thud dully across the wooden floor. Shinpachi tells her to shut up, before Hijikata has to duck at a flying pan headed straight towards his face.

As the two started bickering, Gintoki reached out his hands and squeezed it lightly, reassuringly.

It had been a good day.

•••

They were huddled together at a _kotatsu_ in the living room, the messy surface of the table littered with mismatched things and their matchy cups that Tsukuyo had gladly gifted them a few days upon their return to Edo. Spring triumphantly arrives in the form of warmth and the vibrant flowers scattered everywhere around the house. Gintoki may never know why Hijikata was so smitten with gardening of all things. The whole _minka_ was overtaken like a jungle, tiny pots and a whole backyard displayed blossoming trees, plants unfurling and showing off bursts of blinding colors. It dangled on the ceilings, stood like guardians in doorways and staircases. The soft, fragrant breeze hung in the air, repelling the freezing, crisp winter air ages ago.

"I'm planning on getting a new bonsai soon," Hijikata says, putting the blanket they shared across one shoulder. He placed his mug of coffee on the table just as Gintoki began to groan in mock exasperation.

"That's your fifth bonsai this year. Where are you even going to put it?"

"By the bedroom, I guess," Hijikata hummed in thought, "I'm going to name it Takeru when it arrives."

"Don't we have a Takeru already?" Gintoki whined. As much as he found Hijikata's obsession with christening all of his plants with names, it was hard to keep track of all of them when it was watering duty.

"It was _Takeshi._ We don't have a Takeru yet."

"Great. I'll remember that if you get a cactus next month," Gintoki pouted.

Hijikata laughed heartily, pulling him in closer. "Come kiss me first, you big baby."

When their lips met, Gintoki heard the birds chirping outside and the peace that surrounds them. His heart is filled and oversaturated with love

 _What_ _a good day_.

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering how the whole disease thing works:
> 
> -It's like a magnet. Toshi's symptoms are headaches and (sometimes) vomiting, and the more distance from Gintoki the worse it gets. The upside of this is that since he has to get closer to Gin, he instinctively knows where he is and the headaches would go away temporarily. Balancing the fact that he needed to face whatever was between them and at the same time trying to confess would technically slowly heal him. If he hadn't done this, the disease will stay forever, putting his emotions on overdrive (like the first encounter), chipping away on his health until he's bedridden and physically unable to do anything.
> 
> -Gin's disease is a byproduct of loneliness. His symptoms are chest pains and nosebleeds. It hurts more after conversations with Hijikata, or when he's feeling withdrawn than usual. It's a really terrible disease that I took a basis from in real life, because loneliness does affect people and mess them up (Psychology course banzaiii). I'd say it was general loneliness. He was in a perpetual state of emptiness even after Shoyou's death, so I have a headcanon thay he's terrible at believing he actually establishes relationships around him. He thinks if distancing works, then he'll go with it. And crying Gintoki should be a thing. I want to see him shed tears more because it elicits ✨ the feels ✨ either that or I'm a sadist lol
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!! I actually have my author's notes in a separate file because it's really long, but I kinda just went " eh " with it lmao 🤣
> 
> Happy GinHiji week everyone!!


End file.
